The Electrostatic Attraction
by ShamyShipper
Summary: It was a dark and stormy night when Sheldon Cooper showed up on Amy Farrah Fowler's doorstep. One-shot. (Not related to my other work.)


**The Electrostatic Attraction**

It happened during a thunderstorm. No, it was not lost on Amy Farrah Fowler how cliché that sounded, but it was, nevertheless, the truth of the matter. It had been pouring for hours when Sheldon showed up on her doorstep, wet to the bone and shivering. His clothes and hair were drenched, and rivulets of water were streaming down his face and the column of his long neck. He wore no jacket, and the wetness gathered at the hemline of his t-shirt, dripping to form a puddle on the floor. Amy tugged him inside and rushed to the linen closet to grab a clean towel. Sheldon didn't move as she wrapped it around his shoulders and drew him closer, rubbing her hands briskly over his arms in an attempt to warm them with the friction.

He looked so pale, his face a mask of shocked detachment, and although she was used to moments of apathy from him, this vision scared her. The look in his eyes was like nothing she had never witnessed before. They stared wide open at nothing as Amy continued her attempts to dry him off. She was getting nowhere fast, she realized, and when his entire body began to convulse and his teeth began to chatter, she decided it was time to take more drastic measures.

Amy grabbed onto the edge of Sheldon's shirts and, rising to her tiptoes, pulled them up over his head. Surprisingly, he made no objection, and his arms seemed to lift of their own accord as he bent forward slightly to assist her in removing them. And then his body straightened and grew rigid again, those same arms snaking around his torso as if trying to hold in his own heat as he continued to shiver.

Amy rushed for another towel, and when she returned, she rubbed it over his head, mussing his hair, before wrapping it securely around him. She briefly considered the idea of removing his pants as well, as they were sopping wet, but she decided against it. Instead she pulled the blanket from the back of the couch and laid it over the cushions, guiding him by the arm to sit down. He did as directed without protest and without making eye contact. Once he had sunk into the seat, she knelt before him, carefully lifting one of his feet and slipping his shoe free. The sock, too, was soaked, so she removed that as well, rolling it down his ankle and tugging it off where it clung to his skin for dear life. Then she moved to the next and repeated the process.

She ran to her room to find something suitable with which to warm his toes and settled on a pair of slippers. She grabbed another blanket from the closet and hurried back to him. When she slipped his feet into the fuzzy pink footwear, she realized they were several sizes too small for him. The sole ended a good three inches before his heel. It would have to do though, she decided, unless she opted for a pair of frilly socks instead. The thought made her giggle internally for a moment, but at the sight of his stoic expression, her mirth disappeared.

Amy laid the blanket over his lap and then hurried to the kitchen to make tea. As she filled the kettle with water and set it on the stove, she found herself wondering what on earth had possessed him to venture out into the rain like this. Obviously something was on his mind, and from the looks of him, whatever it was couldn't be anything pleasant. Her body was wracked then with a shudder of its own, and she braced herself against the counter as her mind began to travel to all sorts of dark places she knew it was best not to explore.

When the teapot whistled a few minutes later, she turned off the burner and rummaged in her cabinet for cups, predicting that with whatever was to come tonight, she would most likely need a hot beverage of her own. She dropped a chamomile teabag into each mug and then filled them with water before carrying them to the living room.

Amy set her cup on the coffee table and held his out to him. "Here, Sheldon," she instructed. "Take this and drink it. It will warm you up."

His hands reached for it as if on instinct, and once they were wrapped around the heated porcelain, his eyes at last trailed upward to gaze at her face. Relief washed over her when she saw recognition there, and she offered him a small smile as she sank down next to him.

"Thank you," he whispered. It was the first thing he'd said to her since his arrival. His voice was deeper than usual and a bit hoarse as though his throat were strained.

She watched him intently as he took a sip, longing to know what was going through his mind. It was ten o'clock already; normally he would be tucked into his bed by now, despite the fact that it was a Friday night and his friends would have been over to play video games. Another long moment of silence passed as they both drank their tea, only to be broken by a loud clap of thunder that seemed to shake the very foundation. It wasn't just the weather that had her quaking in her seat though; Sheldon was staring at her now as if he had just awoken from a very ominous dream, his eyes round and frightened. She doubted very much though that it had been the noise from outside that had him so disturbed.

"Sheldon…?"

He curled his lips over his teeth, biting on them as if trying to keep himself from speaking. His brow furrowed then and she thought she could see the glint of tears in his eyes. Terror stabbed through her at the sight. This wasn't good. Something was seriously wrong.

"Do you want to talk about it," she tried, laying her hand very gently over his forearm.

Sheldon stared down at it and shook his head, but made no move to pull away.

Amy felt helpless. She couldn't make him speak if he didn't want to, and yet he had come to her for a reason. And from the looks of it, he had walked all the way here in the storm, without giving any forethought whatsoever to something as essential as a jacket. It was completely unlike him. She so desperately longed to get to the bottom of this, to figure out what was troubling him so. But she also knew how stubborn the man could be and how much he hated emotional outbursts, particularly his own. And so she waited, running her fingers lightly over the skin of his arm in hopes of comforting him, trying to ignore the goose bumps dotting his flesh and the dusting of hair across his bare chest as it peeked out from the concealment of the towel.

"Meemaw's dead." It was blurted so suddenly, that all Amy could do for a moment was gape at him in silence.

"_What_…? Oh my god! Sheldon, I'm so sorry."

Sheldon bit his lips harder and nodded vigorously, staring down into his cup as if it possessed all the answers in the universe. The tears started falling unbidden then, and before she had a chance to even consider what she was doing, her arms were wrapping around him and pulling him to her, squeezing tightly.

He set down his tea and allowed himself to be held, his head falling against her shoulder. And then, as if the floodgates had been opened at long last, he began to sob openly, his chest and shoulders wracking with the kind of raw emotion Amy had up until now not even been certain he was capable of. Unsure of what to do, she just continued to hold him, pressing her cheek against the top of his head and rocking him gently in her arms.

Her heart ached for him and she wished there was something she could say to help ease the pain. She knew how much his grandmother had meant to him, how close they had been, even after all these years and through all the miles that had separated them. The matriarch of their family had been a symbol of comfort to him, a voice of reason, and she had never failed to offer him encouragement, support and love. Sheldon had always looked up to the woman, and Amy had hoped to one day get to meet her in person. Now that would never happen, and her chest constricted at the reality.

His hair was wet against her cheek and rainwater soaked into her cardigan, but she didn't care. She was just glad that he had come to her and that she could be there for him in that moment. She knew she could never take the place of the wise elderly lady who had helped raise him, but it was a comfort to know that he had sought solace in her and that he trusted her enough to give into his emotions in her presence. Sheldon's arms wrapped around her then, and he clutched at the back of her sweater. She stroked his hair, and he buried his face in her neck, his hot breath and tears washing over her skin. Amy shuddered again, but it wasn't from trepidation this time or from the cold. Still she held him, his closeness causing her own body heat to rise. Gradually he stilled beneath her grip and the sounds of his weeping ebbed. After a long while, he lifted his head and pulled away.

They just sat there staring at one another for a moment. It was a struggle to resist the urge to reach up and wipe the residual tears from Sheldon's cheeks. They seemed so out of place trailing there below those often aloof blue eyes.

"I'm sorry," he said at last, and wiped his nose with the back of his hand.

He obviously hadn't given the action a second thought, as she was sure he would have been disgusted at the prospect of even his _own_ snot touching his skin.

"Sheldon, it's okay," she assured him. "There's no need to apologize." She did reach then to wipe the wetness away with her thumbs.

Sheldon latched onto her hand as she pulled away, and she sat staring at him as he brought it to his lips and pressed them against the back of her knuckles. Just that simple act caused a thrill of excitement to trail down her spine.

"Thank you, Amy," he murmured. "I shouldn't have disturbed you this late. I just didn't know where else to go."

"You are always welcome here, Sheldon. You know that. I'm glad you came. Let me get you some tissues."

She made a move to rise, but he tightened his grip on her hand, his eyes growing wide again. She could feel him trembling and wondered whether it was out of fear or if another round of chills had overcome him.

"Don't leave me, Amy." His tone was so panicked and desperate that her heart stopped for a moment and she sank back down, completely breathless.

"No, Sheldon, I won't. I'm not going anywhere. I promise."

His expression softened with relief, but his teeth once again began to click together uncontrollably. This just wouldn't do.

"Sheldon, we need to raise your body temperature," she told him. "I think you should take a warm bath."

He nodded almost absentmindedly, but then his eyebrows raised toward his hairline as a thought occurred to him. "But Amy, I don't have a change of clothes."

"Not that it matters much anyway," she reminded him. "Your clothing is all soaked through. I'll search my room and find something you can wear. Come on."

She held out her hand and he took it, allowing her to draw him to his feet. Sheldon clutched the towel around his shoulders and shuffled after her in the too small slippers as she guided him toward the bathroom and instructed him to have a seat on the lid of the toilet. He gasped and shivered when she let him go, and she had to force herself to move away from him for a moment to focus her attention on the tap. She turned the hot water on full blast and then added in some cold, hoping to get it as warm as possible without scalding him. She was certain that under other circumstances, Sheldon would lament her lack of a bathtub thermometer as he had done in the past, but currently he was silent, and when she spared him a glance over her shoulder, it was to discover that the distant look had once again settled over his features. Once the tub was filled and the temperature to her liking, she shut off the faucet and turned to face him.

"Okay," she announced. "It's all ready for you. I'll make us some cocoa and be back to check on you in a little while."

"Amy?" His voice was timid like that of a lost child. "Will you stay with me?"

Amy swallowed and forced herself to meet his gaze. "Are you sure?"

He nodded and hoisted himself to his feet, bracing his weight against the vanity. He looked so weak in that moment. Helpless. Lost. There was nothing anyone—not even her own internal voice with its harsh warnings against this—could have said to her right then that would have made her deny him.

"Please," he said.

She nodded. "Of course, Sheldon. Whatever you need."

"Thank you," he said again and offered a shy smile.

She smiled back and then bit her lip, unsure of how to proceed. "Do you…um…do you need help?" She nodded toward his pants.

"Oh." He glanced down at himself. "No. I think I can manage."

"Okay, then." Amy's cheeks grew hot as she turned away from him to give him some privacy.

She shut her eyes at the sound of his zipper being drawn and the rustling of fabric as Sheldon moved behind her to rid himself of the soaked clothing. A long moment passed, and she spared a quick glance over her shoulder to see if he had settled. What she was met with was the glorious sight of Sheldon's pale, rounded backside as he stepped into the tub. Amy's mouth went dry and her breath hitched as she trailed her gaze over the taut muscles, taking it all in before quickly averting her gaze.

A moment later, the sloshing of the water announced that Sheldon had lowered himself into the bath at last.

"Amy…" He chastised. "I know you peeked."

How on earth could he tell?

"Sorry," she said quickly. "I just wanted to make sure you made it into the tub okay. Besides…didn't you once say that the hero _always_ peeks?"

"Yes. The _hero_ peeks—not the heroine."

She smiled at that. Did he really think of her as his heroine? She supposed she _had _come to his rescue in her own way tonight.

"That seems like quite the double standard to me," she argued.

"Well, regardless, you can turn around now."

Amy did so and moved to sit on the toilet lid that Sheldon had just recently vacated, noticing too late that it was still damp from his pants. She had opted to grant him his distance so he could be comfortable in her presence and she wouldn't be once again tempted to allow her gaze to wander where it wasn't welcome. What she _could _see of him, however, was a nice view indeed. She had been too preoccupied with his well being to get a good look at him the first time around. Now she was free to gaze openly at his lightly toned chest and soft, flat abdomen. Every freckle and hair and hint of muscle—she drank it all in, getting her fill and feeling her heart beat faster.

"Will you help me," he asked her then. "I'm still cold."

"Of course."

She searched through the cabinet for a washcloth, knowing that he would probably not appreciate her touching his bare skin. Then she just stood there, unsure how to continue. Sheldon beckoned her with a hand, and she moved toward him, kneeling down beside the tub. He leaned forward then, wordlessly indicating what he wanted. Amy unbuttoned her cardigan and pulled it off, and rolled up the sleeves of her blouse. Then, taking a deep breath, she submerged the cloth and held it up over him, squeezing it so the hot water cascaded down over his shoulders. Images of the day Sheldon had given her a bath in this very spot flashed through her mind, and she was unable to suppress a smile at the irony. Sheldon hummed appreciatively as she continued to wash him, and she took that as a good sign. After soaking it once again, she brought the cloth to his back where she trailed it over his flesh in long, reassuring strokes. She repeated this process again and again, trailing the warm water over his skin, making sure to cover every inch. At last, he sat back and tilted his chin up, indicating that it was time to do the front.

Amy exhaled, greedy to run her hands over that delectable skin and to run her fingers through the fine patch of hair between his nipples. She shut her eyes for a moment and just breathed, knowing that she had to reel herself in. Now wasn't the time for such fantasies. Sheldon needed her and she had to take care of him.

Keeping her eyes trained on his upper half, Amy dipped the square into the water and then pressed it against his shoulder, letting the stream trickle down over his chest. Sheldon's eyes fell shut as he enjoyed the warmth. The small room had grown rather steamy in the last ten minutes, and Amy's shirt was clinging to her skin. She lifted her arm to wipe her rolled up sleeve over her forehead and then leaned her elbow against the edge of the bathtub as she submerged the washcloth again. She leaned over him, reaching to bathe his other shoulder.

He gripped her wrist then and she froze, realizing how incredibly close they were. Slowly she turned her head to regard him, their faces just inches apart. They just sat there, staring into one another's eyes for a long moment. And then Sheldon was pulling her toward him, and his soft lips pressed against hers. Amy leaned into the embrace and let out a shaky breath when his hand moved around to cradle the back of her head. He had kissed her before, and had held her hand, but this was the most he had ever touched her, and with some of her usual layers missing and him naked in the bath, it was far more intimate than anything they had ever experienced together.

When they broke the kiss at last, they shared another moment of intense eye contact, and then Sheldon leaned back once more. With a shaky hand, Amy immersed the cloth again. She gasped when she felt her hand brush against him, realizing that she had accidentally touched a vital part of his anatomy.

"Oh god, I'm sorry, Sheldon. I didn't mean to!"

But then she realized that his eyes had fallen shut, and just as she was about to yank her hand away, he caught it in his own, holding it in place. He kept it there under the water, and then very slowly, he guided it back to the spot where it had been just seconds before. Amy sucked in a breath, her body growing completely still as he laid her hand against him, the small square of cloth she clutched in her grip the only thing separating her palm from his skin.

Amy snapped her head to look at him, her breath shallow and her eyes wide. Sheldon kept his own eyes closed, concealing whatever emotions were running through him at that moment. She remained motionless, at a loss for what to do next. His hand was still wrapped around hers, and he squeezed her fingers, curling them around his washcloth-encased shaft. To Amy's great astonishment, she realized with a gasp that _Sheldon Cooper_ had an _erection_. And then her boyfriend started moving, rubbing her hand up and down over himself, and she thought she might faint from the phenomenon. Sheldon hitched his breath, pressing the back of his head against the wall, and a shockwave of arousal shot straight to Amy's core as she watched his face, and the realization of what they were doing struck her full force.

She could hardly believe this was happening. It had to be some kind of odd alter dimension. Either that or the Sheldon she knew had gone totally insane. But then he was moaning softly, and every other thought completely fled her brain. She concentrated then on the thickness of the flesh sheathed within her hand, the cadence of his gasping breaths, the sound of the water gently sloshing as her arm moved up and down, pleasuring him.

It occurred to her then that her boyfriend was in a very emotionally delicate state right now. Maybe she should stop this. She refused to do anything with him that he would later regret.

"Sheldon?" She hoped the sound of his name would draw him back to the here and now, where the cognizant part of his brain would take over, and he would be free to decide if this was too much.

But he just grasped her hand tighter in response, his own arm pumping faster, and whispered, "Please."

Amy didn't need to be asked twice.

Her hand moved in time with his, relishing the provocativeness of what they were doing together. Her head was spinning, but she couldn't tell if it was from the heat or from the arousal that was spiraling out of control in the pit of her belly. This was the hottest thing she had ever done in her life. The only factor that would have made it better was if that damn washcloth wasn't in the way.

As if sensing her need, Sheldon grabbed onto her shoulder and crushed his lips against hers. It was the most forceful, impassioned kiss they had ever shared, and Amy could hardly contain herself any longer. He let her hand go then and she continued to stroke him under the water, the washcloth creating delicious friction between his straining flesh and her hand. His fingers snaked their way into the neckline of her shirt, tracing patterns over her collarbones. She shuddered beneath his touch, forcing herself to stifle the "_Hoo"_ that threatened to burst free.

Amy's hair, shirt and arms were all dripping with water now, but she didn't care. The steam was clouding her brain, it seemed, and she melted into him, savoring his hot breath against her mouth. And then his lips parted to move across hers, and she followed suit, lost in the throes of desire. It was when his tongue brushed tentatively against her own that she thought she might lose it completely. She had to be dreaming; she was convinced of it. And yet his touch was so real. She pressed into him harder, longing to feel more of him. With a soft moan, she ran her own tongue along his, returning the caress eagerly as a yearning heat pulsed between her thighs.

Amy began to move her hand faster and Sheldon groaned into her mouth, his chest heaving against hers. She could feel the cadence of his heartbeat pounding strong and fast against her ribcage. And then he tensed up beneath her and threw his head back, crying out with pleasure as he released, his sharp gasps echoing through the bathroom as he fought to gain control of his breathing.

Amy slowed her movements and let go of him, studying his face in the silence that followed. When he opened his eyes at last, he spared her a shy glance before they both averted their gazes. Amy let go of the washcloth and cleaned her hand off in the water, unsure of what she should say or do.

After a long pause, Sheldon shifted his weight and spoke in a timid voice.

"I need to rinse off."

Amy nodded and rose to her feet. "Right. Of course. I'll just…go get you a towel."

Then she spun on her heels and sprinted from the room. Once she had shut the door behind her, she pressed her back against the wall and tried to gain control over her breathing. Her chest was heaving, arousal, excitement and panic swirling together to form a painful knot against her ribcage. That was the most enthralling, erotic thing she had ever done, and as she listened to the water draining from the tub and the shower head springing to life, her hand found its way up her skirt to stroke over herself through her panties. Gerard would have been a welcome companion right about now, but she had left the electric toothbrush in the bathroom, and there was no way she could go back in there now. It made little difference anyway, as the thoughts of what they had just done and the images of Sheldon's features twisted with pleasure brought her own orgasm crashing down on her after only a few strokes.

Amy bit her lip, her panting exhalations flooding the hallway as she held back her own impassioned cries. It wouldn't do to let Sheldon hear her. As it was, the reality of what they had done together probably already had him freaked out.

Once she had regained control over herself, she hurried to the linen closet for a fresh towel. When the shower shut off a couple of minutes later, she knocked on the door.

"Come in," Sheldon called, and she stepped into the heat and moisture of the bathroom. The mirror was fogged and she instantly felt her shirt clinging to her skin again.

"Here you go," she said, reaching up to hand him the towel over the rod. She felt him take it from her and then turned to leave.

"Amy?"

The sound of the curtain being drawn back made her pause, and she looked back over her shoulder to see Sheldon's head peeking out. His face was calmer than it had been all night, and a familiar glint replaced the previous dullness in his eyes.

"Thank you," he said.

She nodded, feeling extremely shy. "I'll go find something for you to wear."

With that, she dashed to her room and searched through her drawers. She found a pair of her dad's old pajama pants that were too big for her but she hadn't been able to bring herself to get rid of. It was the top half that proved more challenging. She had a few t-shirts, but everything she owned would be way too small for his lanky frame. She finally settled on a floral night shirt she sometimes wore in the dead of summer when her usual flannel nightgowns proved far too hot. Seeing as how the baggy garment reached her knees, she figured it should fit. She was sure he would object to the pink and purple flowers covering its front, but at least he wouldn't have to sit in her apartment half naked. Not that she would have minded one bit.

"I'm sorry, Sheldon," she said after knocking and entering the bathroom again. "I brought you some clothes, but I'm afraid you'll have to wear my girly nightshirt, seeing as it's the only thing I own that has a chance of fitting you." She set the stuff down on the sink for him. "I'll be waiting for you in the living room."

When Sheldon emerged a few minutes later, there was a sheepish look on his face, and she noticed he didn't seem quite capable of looking her in the eyes. Despite her concern over that fact, she had to bite her lips to keep from giggling at the sight of him. The pants fulfilled their purpose, but since her father had been wider and a bit shorter than Sheldon, they came to rest a few inches above his ankles, and they sagged on his hips. Thank god for the drawstring, or they probably would have fallen around his ankles by now. The shirt fit him pretty well, but the pastel flowers covering his chest, matched with the undersized pink fuzzy slippers was certainly a sight to behold. It was only the worried look in his eyes that silenced her mirth, and she promptly composed herself.

"I want to apologize for my behavior," he murmured, staring down at his fleece-clad feet. His face was red with shame, and Amy's heart constricted at the sight.

"Sheldon, it's okay," she was quick to assure him. "I didn't mind. It was nice to be able to take care of you."

He just stared at her for a moment, his brow furrowing like it had when he'd first told her his horrific news a while earlier. "Amy, what I made you do was completely out of line. It was disgusting of me, and offensive. I don't know what came over me—"

"No."

That one simple word silenced him, and he cocked his head at her, looking completely bewildered.

"It wasn't disgusting _or _offensive," she stated. "It was quite the opposite, in fact." She patted the couch cushion next to her which was now devoid of the blanket he had previously sat upon. "Come sit."

It took him a moment before he started to move. He approached her tentatively, a gleam of uncertainty in his eyes. She handed him the promised cup of cocoa and took a sip of her own, allowing them both a moment to get past the awkwardness that lingered in the air between them.

"So…" Amy tried at last. "How are you feeling now? Are you still cold?"

He shook his head. "No, I'm much better. Thank you."

She nodded and took another drink from her mug.

"Amy…thank you…for being here for me when I needed you." Again, his face flushed and she could see he was embarrassed.

"You're welcome," she said softly, carefully tiptoeing around the night's activities, and knowing that releasing all that pent up emotion had probably done him a world of good. "Did you really walk all the way here? I could have come and picked you up."

"I wasn't thinking straight after my mother called. Leonard wasn't home, and I just knew I had to get away from there, so I started walking. I wasn't even sure where I was going at first. My feet just led me to you."

Her heart swelled at that, and she smiled. "That was a pretty rash decision for you." She made sure to keep any hint of scolding out of her tone. "You could have gotten yourself sick." Amy glanced out the window at the rain that continued to fall, visible in the glow of the streetlights, the water streaming down the glass in sheets.

"Yes, well...the last thing Meemaw ever said to me was that I should seize my opportunities before they passed me by. I figured this was as good a time as any."

Amy frowned at that, not quite making the connection. "Somehow I don't think wandering around in a torrential downpour was what she was referring to," she said. "Besides, you've already seized several opportunities in life, Sheldon. You've made some breakthroughs at work, and you've attended awards banquets, even though you hate public speaking—"

"That's not what she meant."

"Oh." It was all she could think of to say.

"Amy," he said after another moment of silence. He set his drink on the coffee table and stared down at his hands, which were fidgeting in his lap. He was nervous, she decided. "Those words Meemaw said…they were about _you_."

She just blinked, at a complete loss for words. "Me?"

Sheldon licked his lips. "Meemaw was the one person I confided just about everything in. Well…within reason, anyway. I admitted to her that I had been trying to figure out how to…get past some of my inhibitions…and become more physical with you."

Amy's eyes grew wide as she studied him, and a thrill of excitement flashed through her. Despite the fact that Sheldon had told her a while ago that he hadn't ruled out intimacy, this news surprised her. She had figured that what he did tonight had been an act of emotional impulse, and perhaps it had, but just knowing that he was actually still thinking about it and trying to work through his issues gave her hope. He had not mentioned the idea of getting physical with her for quite some time, aside from the occasional snide comment about how things would be if they had been in a sexual relationship. Just the fact that he was telling her these things, and that he had allowed her to take care of him tonight was a huge step in the right direction.

"It might still take a bit of time," Sheldon went on, "but I realize now that I should value the people in my life before they're gone. She had always told me that, but the truth of it didn't really hit me until I discovered that she was no longer a part of my life."

Amy said a silent thank you to Sheldon's grandmother, grateful to the woman for her insight and encouragement.

"Amy…I don't want to lose you." His voice was so soft, the look in his eyes so lost, and she found herself wanting to reach out and cradle him in her arms again.

"You're not going to lose me," she whispered. "I promise. Whether we become physically intimate or not."

"It's not just Meemaw," he said softly. "I've been thinking about it for quite a while now, and I've been wanting to. It's just...I have no earthly clue what I'm doing, and I'm not used to that. I know so much about so many things, but when it comes to this—to experiencing these emotions and trying to act on them—I'm at a complete loss. This is new to me, Amy. When I allow myself to think about you that way, I'm not the same person I've always known, and…I don't want to lose myself in the process."

"I understand, Sheldon. These kinds of changes can feel overwhelming. And I don't expect you to transform overnight. Besides, you're not the only one who's hesitant. This is all new to me as well."

Sheldon nodded and he met her gaze fully for the first time since he'd come out of the bathroom. "I enjoyed what we did together in the bathtub," he admitted, his face coloring yet again. "And I'd like to try it again sometime...maybe under better circumstances."

Amy smiled. "I'd like that too."

Sheldon leaned into her again, excruciatingly slowly, until at last their lips were touching. Amy melted into him, wrapping her arms loosely around his waist. Sheldon responded in kind, reaching to cradle her head as he had done in the tub, and deepening the kiss. Their tongues caressed against one another, this time with more confidence, and Amy felt the familiar tingling sensation signaling her arousal.

He shifted his weight to push her against the back of the couch, his chest pressed against hers and his mouth moving over hers hungrily. His fingers grazed the side of her breast, and she hitched her breath, tingles of pleasure igniting in her loins. She moaned softly, hoping to encourage him, and was delighted when he followed her cues, cupping her flesh in his hand through her shirt and squeezing gently.

Sheldon broke the kiss a moment later, still fondling her, his palm rubbing enticingly over her nipple through the layers of her clothing. And then, as if realizing for the first time what he was doing, he blushed and lowered his hand. Amy bit back her disappointment and focused instead on her elation over the fact that Sheldon Cooper had dared to touch her.

"I'm sorry," He said again, but instead of fear or panic in his eyes, this time she thought she saw a hint of desire. "I really don't know what's happening to me, but I can't seem to keep my hands and lips to myself tonight."

Amy grinned at him. "It's okay. I like it. A lot."

Sheldon adjusted himself then so he was sitting side by side with her, and he leaned back against the couch. He took her hand in his, and they sat in companionable silence for a while. Amy struggled to think of something to say. It was Sheldon who ended up speaking first.

"I wish you could have met her, Amy. I think I'll always regret not introducing you."

"I wish I could have met her too."

"She really liked you, you know."

Amy furrowed her brow in confusion. "She did? How is that possible? She never even met me."

"I've told her all about you, of course. Meemaw really wanted us to be happy together."

That warmed Amy's heart, and she bit her lip, fighting back tears. "That's really sweet, Sheldon."

"Amy? Will you go with me? To the funeral?"

"Really? I would be honored."

"Good." His face lit up with a genuine smile for the first time that night and he scooted closer to her so their thighs were touching. With a hint of reluctance, he reached his arm around her shoulders and drew her in.

Amy wrapped her own arms around his torso and leaned toward him, settling against his chest. Silence fell over the apartment as they enjoyed one another's company. They could talk more about progress and feelings later. For now, Amy was content to simply be so close to him, and to listen to the slow, steady cadence of his heart.

A flash of lightning lit up the night sky several minutes later to reveal the two figures—one tall and lanky and adorned in flowers, the other shorter and bespectacled, dressed in a disheveled blouse and damp denim skirt—curled up together on the small couch. The hint of a smile was painted across both their lips as they basked in their nearness, sleeping peacefully in each other's arms.

* * *

**_I hope you enjoyed the story! I'm working on a new chaptered fanfic that I hope to start posting soon._**


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